


Colors

by Lamo_Lukas



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: BBC, Gay, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Sheriarty - Freeform, Sherlock - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-19 15:36:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5972151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lamo_Lukas/pseuds/Lamo_Lukas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock believes in a colorless life...until he meets John...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meeting John

* * *

Color has always been beautiful. Some people do not think much of it. Some people yearn to see it. Some people have never physically saw it. Some people do not care to see color mentally. 

Someone such as Sherlock Holmes. 

The consulting detective always saw his life in a dark, dull color. He did see color physically, but never thought life itself could be colorful. It sounds very metaphorical, but to Holmes, metaphors were useless since they were not true facts. 

Sherlock walked calmly down the street, thinking about his current case. He took these leisurely walks when something baffled him. In this particular case, a woman named Mary Watson was worried about her missing husband. She had explained the situation to the police, but they only shrugged their shoulders and pointed her in Sherlock's direction. She told the detective that her husband, John Watson, had been missing for a week or so. Sherlock had taken the case since it sparked ideas. His first thought was that he left her for another women. Simple. He could have easily been disinterested in her. But something in the way she spoke, she knew something more. She never came out with it though.  

Sherlock had deduced that this John fellow and Mary had an unhappy marriage by her ring. The diamonds were small in size and in number, yet her clothing was very vibrant in color and obviously expensive by the quality of the fabric. It was easy enough to tell that they had been together for quite some time and that they shared money and a house. What usual close couples, married or not, would do. So the husband was not poor. But since the man was lonely and needed to stay with someone, it suggests that he would choose a cheap ring. Cheap ring = unhappy relationship. 

All this went through Sherlock's head within an instant. The detail that was left out though was bothering him. What could it have been? Did he leave a note or act different the night before his disappearance? Sherlock sat on a bench and closed his eyes, putting his clamped hands together and to his lips. He thought of all the possibilities in an unhappy relationship. There were many, but a few stood out like a sore thumb. 

"Are you alright?" Sherlock heard an unfamiliar voice and kept his eyes closed. 

"I'm fine..." Sherlock grumbled and slowly opened his eyes, pulling his hands away to look at the gentleman who had rested beside him. Sherlock deduced him instantly. Bags under eyes...Lack of sleep. Walking stick...army wound. Calloused hands...former doctor. Grimy ring...long unhappy relationship. The detective's eyelashes flickered for a moment then a grin formed on his face. He held his hand out towards the other man.  

"My name is Sherlock Holmes. I haven't seen you around here before," he said in a casual, friendly voice with a charming smile. The other man smiled back instantly and shook it with a firm grasp. 

"John W-...West. John West is the name," John tried to have a smooth recovery. Sherlock noticed and nods, pulling his hand away. 

"Again, I haven't seen you around here before. London I mean." Sherlock leaned back and folded his hands on his lap. John glanced down for a moment and seemed to tense his shoulders. 

"Oh well, I came to visit I suppose.." John mumbled quickly then looked up at Sherlock once more. In Holmes' mind, he eliminated a few of his theories about this fellow. One stood out very prominently. He even gave the theory a bright blue color in his mind. 

"There are always a few people like you. But they have a reason they don't like to share aloud.." Sherlock said and looked out into the busy street, giving off the vibe that it was obvious. 

"And what is that?" John asked, leaning forward and tilting his head a bit. It was evident that he was interested in listening to the other man. Sherlock glanced at the other and lost his kind smile.  

"They're unhappy with their life. Most of the time it's a relationship..." Sherlock said in a deep voice that made John shift slightly in his seat. He swallowed hard but managed to let out a small laugh. 

"That's...that's very interesting.." John looked down at his ring and screwed it around his finger while Sherlock watched closely. "I...I have been thinking about ending things with my wife-" 

"Mary?" Sherlock interrupted him quickly, forming a smile. John nods and looked at him questionably. 

"How do yo-" 

"Mary is one of my clients. I'm a consulting detective," Holmes explained. John sighed and put his head in his hands. 

"Of course...I knew your name sounded familiar..." Sherlock smiled at him. For some apparent reason, he did not rush John unlike others. Maybe he felt that John needed to take his time while explaining. The man took a deep sigh. "Alright...I left Mary because I needed some time to myself. I've been...feeling differently." Sherlock jumped up from his seat quickly which stopped John and smirked. He clapped his hands together. 

"Don't say anything else. You've been thinking you were straight for a period of time yet you tried suppressing your feelings towards men. You declared yourself as bisexual but didn't tell anyone besides Mary. Because she was the only person you trusted. You pretended you loved her just so you were never alone. You realized recently that you were gay and never bothered to tell anyone. You were scared of the judgement you would get if you told. That's why you left Mary so you had time to think of what to do," Sherlock deduced. John's eyes widened and he sat there in complete shock. 

"How did yo-" 

"Your ring and the way you looked and talked to me. That's all I needed to see through you," Sherlock smiled gently. John let out a soft breath and looked down. 

"I just...know that if I leave Mary and be by myself...I wouldn't last long," John said and scratched the back of his head. 

"Army doctor, isn't it?" the detective asks in a soft voice and squinted slightly to watch John. He nods sadly without a word. "And you have no one left because of you in the army...I see..." Sherlock thought for a moment. He needed to end the case without anyone getting hurt. That has always been his job. To solve a problem nobody knows the answer to. He then turned his back towards the doctor.  

"Come. You can stay with me for the time being until you can live on your own. Also you need to tell Mary the truth. I need to end this case somehow." John looked up at him and stood up slowly. 

"Are you sure? I mean- I don't want to be a bother or anythi-" Sherlock smirked. 

"Of course not. I've been wanting a flatmate anyways." 

* * *

The duo had arrived to 221b Baker Street and chatted to get to know each other. John had known about Sherlock since Mary was obsessed with him, but when he found out about Sherlock's extreme deductions and how utterly insane the man could be, he knew he was going to enjoy this. Sherlock on the other hand had found out more about John's condition and told him to lose the walking stick. He knew the doctor would not need it. He also found out about John's love for danger. Sherlock in his mind thought of this as a deep red color. He knew he was going to love John. They agreed to wait until tomorrow to have Mary come over though. If John was not mentally prepared, then it could end badly. 

John was currently eating soup that Mrs. Hudson had made and sitting across from him was Sherlock. 

"So what did you mean when you said you knew I was gay by the way I looked and talked to you?" John asks, taking in a spoonful of soup. 

"You have a sparkle in your eyes," he explained like it was obvious. John gave him a confused look that came with a small blush across his cheeks. _Was he flirting with me?_ Sherlock rolled his eyes. "When you look at me, your eyes twinkle a little and your pupils dilate. Also you will look at me with a small smile and lick your lips out of nervousness. Am I wrong?" Sherlock explained and looked down at a newspaper he was not even interested in. John's cheeks turned a pink hue and he chuckles. 

"Amazing...truly amazing..." John mumbled as he looked down as well. Sherlock looked at him with furrowed brows. 

"You know you're saying that out loud..." Sherlock muttered. John scratched the back of his neck. 

"S-Sorry..." he whispered and stood up to put his empty bowl in the sink. The detective watched him with a hidden smile and shook his head.

"No, no...it's...fine.." Sherlock felt a sense of pride which made him grin like a child. He began feeling lavender on the inside. John glanced at Sherlock with a smile. 

"If you say so..." he mumbled as he as let out a long yawn. "I think I'm going to bed," John yawned once more and looked at Sherlock. "Do you have a guest bedroom?" Sherlock shook his head and swiftly stood up. 

"You can sleep in my room, and I'll sleep on the couch until other arrangements can be made," the tall man explained and showed John to his room. It was a little messy like the rest of 221b but it would be alright. Sherlock went over to the bed and made it nicely, then took the robe that hung on the door. John watched him curiously and glanced around the room as well. Sherlock pointed to the reddish-brown bureau. 

"I don't know if you'll be needing clothes but you can borrow some of mine. Just don't stain them," Sherlock warned as he began walking out of the room. John nervously glanced at Sherlock walking away. 

"You can sleep in your bed. I don't want to be an inconvenience," John stated. The detective just waved his hand and closed the door behind him. John let out a soft sigh before shuffling through the other man's clothes. The dark curly haired man took off his shirt and trousers, leaving himself in only pants, then put on his navy blue robe. He tied the knot and nestled on the couch with a blanket. He closed his eyes and decided to look around his mind palace. 

He entered through the large doors and began walking the halls with clacks of his feet. Everything looked normal except for one thing: one of the doors was plain white instead of the usual black. Sherlock looked puzzled at the door and opened the door slowly. Inside, there were many smeared colors of paint around all four walls. Reds, blues, purples, yellows, _every color_. In large letters on the opposing wall from Sherlock, the name John was written in those same colors. Sherlock looked at it in disbelief at first, then he grew a crazed smile. 

"What the bloody hell is this?" he asked himself with a laugh. "Why is this hear?" He laughed and held his stomach from giggling. He didn't know why he was laughing when he saw John's name, but he did not register that maybe it is because John was or will be very important to him. Until he heard a scream for help. 

Sherlock quickly opened his eyes and grabbed the gun from under the couch. He could tell it was John's voice, moaning and groaning for someone to come to his rescue. He ran to his bedroom and swung open the door. The detective pointed the gun in the darkness for a moment, then slowly lowered it when he saw John's face. Illuminated by the moon peaking through the curtains, John laid in bed breathing heavily, tossing and turning. Sherlock relaxed a little and put the gun on the bureau. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he gently shook John's shoulder. 

"Wake up, John. It's just a dream," he whispered in his deep, smooth voice. After a few more shakes, John woke up and rubbed his eyes as he looked up at Sherlock. He cursed under his breath and looked away.

"Damn...I'm sorry, Sherlock..." John mumbled and sat up. Sherlock immediately pushed him back down. 

"Don't sit up. You'll keep yourself awake," Sherlock commanded and heard the doctor sigh. 

"It won't matter anyway...I'll still be awake..." John complained as if he were a child. Sherlock hummed with a smile, but the other could not see it through the darkness. 

"You remind me of my brother, Mycroft." Sherlock then slipped into bed beside him, John furiously blushing. 

"What are you doing...?" 

"Comforting you. Now sleep.." Somehow, this did comfort John a little. John sighed and closed his eyes. He then felt a hand reach up to his hair and softly caress it with soft fingers. Biting his lip, he could feel his heart pounding through his chest but felt very relaxed with this constant motion. Silence settled between them until John felt Sherlock's hand stop. Then the circling started again. 

"Sherlock?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you alright? Why are you doing this?" John asked, feeling sleep beginning to come. Sherlock continued caressing his hair quietly, debating whether or not he should tell him. 

"My brother used to have nightmares frequently. Every night. Once he let out a scream or hit his hand against the wall, I'd wake him, get into bed, and stroke his hair. That was when we were younger of course..." Sherlock explained. John smiled slightly, thinking about how adorable Sherlock was. He must be such a great big brother..

"How old is he compared to you?" John yawned. 

"He's five years older, believe it or not," Sherlock mumbled, rolling his eyes. John let out a little, cute snort before laughing into Sherlock's shoulder. The detective stood there in shock for a moment. He felt his heart feel heavy in a good way and couldn't help but smile. _It's obvious that John enjoys me, that's different...but am I enjoying him? Is that why there was that colorful room?_

_Yes, Sherlock, yes it is._

* * *

 


	2. Realization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I didn't get any feedback (I do not care anyway), but I have decided to continue it since I do have some ideas... Please enjoy it! And sorry its a little short!

* * *

After John falling asleep to Sherlock's consistent and gentle touch, they both obtained a deep, peaceful sleep without any struggling or screaming. John woke up the next morning not even bothering to move his eyelids. He remained comfortable in his sleeping position, for he enjoyed the warmth beside himself. Soon though, he opened his eyes to see Sherlock laying next to him. Blushing, John remembered how the mysterious detective caressed him to sleep. Sherlock kept one hand through John's sandy hair and the other around his waist while he slept peacefully. John smiled a bit and rested his head gently on Sherlock's chest, not wanting to wake him. 

 _Thump...thump...thump..._ Sherlock's heart beat steadily into John's ear. The quietness in the room seemed to relax the doctor, yet his mind began to fill with questions that seemed to turn his stomach. 

_What am I doing here?_

_Why do I feel this way towards a complete stranger?_

_Am I going to be able to leave and afford my own home by myself?_

_Will Mary accept that I won't be with her any longer?_

John let out a short grunt of anger then closed his eyes tightly. 

"Shut the bloody hell up..." he mumbled and felt the man beside him shift a bit. 

"The silence too loud for you?" Sherlock mumbled groggily as he reached up to rub his eyes, pulling away from John. Pouting slightly to himself, John rolled his eyes. 

"I was thinking..." Before John could finish his thought, his eyes darted towards Sherlock's exposed chest through his loosened robe. His stomach began twisting with feelings of attraction, and his mind becoming a blur, unable to speak. Sherlock acknowledged himself and swung his legs to the side of the bed, fixing it self-consciously. The doctor quickly stood up and grabbed the clothes he wore yesterday. Stepping into the bathroom without a word, he locked the door and let out a sigh. 

 _Why do I let myself show these feelings so carelessly?_ he thought to himself and began dressing in the plaid button up and jeans. 

Sherlock in the other room began dressing as well in a tight, deep purple shirt. Once he finished, he headed for the kitchen to prepare some black coffee. He kept a stoic expression on his face as he poured the dark liquid into the mug while his head became consumed with other thoughts. 

_John felt uncomfortable with me last night. No, he stared at me far longer than someone else would have in a situation like that. He most definitely was comfortable. Maybe I shouldn't have done that. I didn't mind being with him, but I have never been close to anyone like that in a long time. And I'd like to keep it that way. The last thing I need is for me to actually care._

Removing himself from his thoughts, black coffee spilled out of the cup and stung Sherlock's skin that held the cup. He quickly put down the pitcher from his one hand and held the other to not hit it into anything. Sherlock let out soft breaths in hopes to stop the pain. 

"After we talk to- Sherlock, are you alright?!" John slightly shouted as he ran over to him. Sherlock rolled his eyes. 

"It's nothing, John," he mumbled, biting his lip and trying not to show his emotions. 

"Bloody hell, how did you burn yourself? This is _not_ nothing!" the angry doctor shouted and looked around. He found a cloth, dampened it slightly with cool water, then took Sherlock's hand. Sherlock attempted to pull his hand away, but John glared at him with fire in his eyes. 

"Sherlock, I'm a doctor. You know that. If you want it to stop hurting then I suggest you stop struggling," John threatened while they stared into each other's eyes. Silence between them grew, but Sherlock soon released the tension in his hand and relaxed it in John's palm. Smiling from victory, the doctor gently dabbed the wound. Sherlock blinked quietly as he watched his delicate hands heal his wound. Realization hit him, and hit him _hard_. No one had ever commanded him as John did. It seemed as though everyone feared or hated the detective by his arrogance, but John seemed to have strict structure that Sherlock felt the need to obey. His bowed lips curved into a smile and pulled his attention towards the spilled coffee. 

"All done. Tell me how you burnt yourself in the first place, hm? And don't tell me you did it on purpose.." John crossed his arms and tried unsuccessfully making eye contact with him. Sherlock looked at John with a grin. 

"How do you know?" 

"What do you mean 'How do I know'? You may be brilliant, but I have read your..." He pauses for a moment and clears his throat, "Blog...about you testing how long bruising would occur after death. You could be trying to experiment by seeing how coffee could burn!" John shouted, then took a deep breath to calm himself. The taller man slightly lost his grin. 

"First of all, I would use a test subject to burn, not my own skin. Second, I have tested coffee burns - extremely harmless. If you wanted to burn something, I suggest actual fire. Thirdly, I wouldn't hurt myself by a hot liquid." Sherlock grumbled and turned away from a speechless John. The doctor blinked for a moment then turned away from him to start cleaning up the coffee with a rag. Silently soaking the wet rag with coffee from the countertop, John didn't bother looking at Sherlock as he knew he was defeated by the detective. Sherlock had watched John quietly before walking over. 

"Let me clean it up, John," Sherlock insisted. John ignored him and continued to attempt to clean the mess. He glared at John for a moment then grabbed his hand to stop him. John jumped a bit at the touch, biting his lip as he glared at Sherlock. "You don't scare me, John," Sherlock whispered with a little harshness in his voice as he stared into John's eyes. John swallowed hard, but kept his gaze with Sherlock's, hoping he would leave him alone. Instead, Sherlock slipped the rag out of his hand and finished cleaning. 

John stepped back once he realized that his flatmate was going to do the cleaning and watched him. More like admired him. Although John seemed to be annoyed at Sherlock right now, he enjoyed being in his presence, yet he hated to be in anyone's presence. John began smiling to himself and couldn't help but let out a small giggle. Sherlock looked up at him with a stoic expression. 

"What are you laughing at?" Sherlock asked, not particularly interested in what John was actually laughing at. 

"You." John grew a larger smile and cocked his head as he looked at Sherlock. The detective sighed and put down the disgusting rag. 

"I know I'm a very _hilarious_ person, but what does that have to do with me?" Sherlock asks in a sarcastic voice, placing a hand on the counter top to hold himself up. John cleared his throat and looked away. 

"You're just...interesting. And all of your deductions are...truly amazing..." John said as a blush spreads across his cheeks. Sherlock relaxed a little and furrowed his brows. 

"Do you know what other people say?" the detective asks. John shook his head then Sherlock smiled. "Piss off." This caused them both to have a laughing fit. John's cheeks turned a bright pink as he felt the butterflies in his stomach to explode. He could see them becoming close friends which pleased John since he would be staying with Sherlock for a bit. 

And Sherlock? John's pink blush was stuck in his head, and he started realizing what the room in his mind palace was meant for. Sherlock smiled to try and hide how he truly felt. _Scared_. 

* * *

 


End file.
